


in the darkness, we will hold a candle

by joely_jo



Category: Star Trek: Picard, Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Duty, Episode: s01e07 Nepenthe, F/M, Family, Friendship, Imzadi (Star Trek), Love, Loyalty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23493142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/joely_jo/pseuds/joely_jo
Summary: Imagined missing scenes between the end of Nepenthe and Et In Arcadia Ego Pt 2, focusing on my faves, or, what happened when Riker intercepted that message from Picard.
Relationships: William Riker/Deanna Troi
Comments: 38
Kudos: 82





	in the darkness, we will hold a candle

**Author's Note:**

> While I've been a TNG fan for about thirty years and read all sorts of fanfic for the series, I've never actually been brave enough to post any of my own scribblings. But here we are. Lockdown has given me a break from my busy life and the result is... writing! I am, still, however, rather nervous about this. So, please, if you enjoy this, let me know! Thanks.

In the darkness, we will hold a candle

By joelyjo

“Will, I’m making tea. Do you want some?”

Deanna’s voice travels up the stairs but goes unheard, buffered away by the maelstrom of thoughts whipping through Will Riker’s head. Before him, the computer displays an orange-texted log of recent transmissions across the quadrant, and there, buried amid the standard issue requests and everyday communiques, is Picard’s cry for help. His fingers hover over the interface.

*Will, I’m making tea. Do you want some?*

At the echo of her words in his head, Will snaps his attention away and half-turns towards the door. “Sure! Yes please, be right there…” he calls aloud.

He hears her footsteps disappear, the sense of her in his head drift away to the familiar hum of presence that peppers his days now, and his gaze returns to the transmission log. His eyes scan the most recent transmissions, which would indicate if anyone had responded. Nothing. A breath in, then out, then another in. He closes his eyes, decision made. _Time to call in a few favours_ , he thinks. Because there’s no way he’s leaving that message unheeded.

***

In the soft light of the kitchen, Deanna is tidying away their dinner things when he enters. “Hey,” he murmurs and comes up behind her, slips his hands around her waist and leans forward to rest his chin on the top of her head. She arches into him and tilts back to smile at him.

And that’s when she realises. Whether it takes the look into his eyes or the expression on his face or if she reads his emotions, he cannot say, but he recognises the instant that she knows he is going. Her face pales and she stills in his grasp. “You’re leaving,” she says, so quiet yet so certain.

He turns her around and his eyes fix on hers, black pools of emotion that draw him in and in like gravity. He’s never been able to answer her when she’s totally on the mark like this.

“It’s all right, Will. I’ve known this was coming.” She breaks away from him and goes to the counter, where two mugs of tea are steaming gently. Choosing one and handing him the other, she keeps her hands busy, but still he sees the tremor. Instinct makes his mind reach out to her. With a deft sweep, she brushes him away and he is taken aback, feeling suddenly like a gigantic fool for not fully understanding the impact of his decision on her.

She returns to face him and again, their eyes meet. “Since the moment he came here I’ve known.” A rueful smile flickers on her lips. “I’ve known you too long, Imzadi… And of course you should go. I wouldn’t expect anything less for him. I know what he is to you.”

Will rushes to reassure her. “It won’t be for long. I’ll be home before you know it.”

“Don’t say things you don’t know to be true, Will. I know how these things can play out just as well as you do.”

“Deanna…” He goes to her, takes the cup from her hands, and this time she falls into his embrace, allows his thoughts to mingle with hers. With her head pressed against his chest, he knows she is listening to his heartbeat, knows she can feel the tension and the conflict surging through him. “I can’t just stay here and let him do this alone.” The words are as much an assertion for his own ears as for hers. He wonders briefly if he even remembers what it’s like to command a starship. It’s been nearly a decade now…

“I asked Admiral Clancy. You can come if you want. Kestra too.”

Against his chest, Deanna sighs, then lifts her head to look at him once more. “Oh Will, in another life I would not hesitate. But I can’t. Not now. There’s too much at stake.”

He knows she is talking about their daughter, who sleeps peaceful and unaware in her room at the top of the stairs. They’ve both worked hard to move on and manage the grief from Thad’s death, for all of their sakes, but he knows that losing their son has changed Deanna on an elemental level. He rests his hand on her head and wishes, not for the first time, that he could make her whole again. 

A long moment passes and gradually their hold on one another loosens. The tea has gone cold and it is fully dark now, one of Nepenthe’s gently scented night breezes coming in through the open window. “When will you leave?” Deanna asks as she steps away, gathering up her mental disciplines and drawing in a deep breath.

“If my clearances are done by the morning, the Vanguard will pick me up at 1100 hours. Clancy says they’re bringing the Zheng He out of space dock, even though she’s still not quite finished. And because she’s got no crew assigned yet,” he explains, unable to quite withhold the old rush of feeling at the thought of command. “I get to captain the flagship again.”

Deanna smiles and nods and sends him a taste of her emotions, the pride and happiness she feels for him. But even though he knows she is trying not to let him feel it, beneath it all he senses the fear bubbling up, the thought of him willingly walking toward danger becoming more real with every moment. “Deanna, you know if it was anybody else, I wouldn’t be doing this.”

“I know…”

Her eyes are suddenly filling with tears and she tries to turn away from him, but reaching out, he touches her upper arm and stops her. Quietly, his thoughts seek hers, wrapping his love around her. “Come to bed with me?”

She doesn’t reply with words, but he takes her silence as an affirmative and picks up her hand, squeezing it softly. He instructs the computer to raise the shields and perimeter sensors and together they climb the stairs to their bedroom.

The window has been open up here too, he realises, and the room is filled with the deep floral fragrance of Nepenthian night blooms. He goes to close it, but she stops him. “Leave it, I want to feel the breeze.” Without another word, they shuck their clothes and slide beneath the sheets. He gathers her into his arms, spooning up behind her, taking a deep breath of the place at the back of her neck where her warmth pools in her hairline.

“I remember the first time we did this.”

Deanna chuffs softly with amusement. “I thought you were going to explode.”

“I nearly did. It was touch and go.” His hand slips around and rubs a slow circle on her stomach. “And then, later, when I found out it was just a ruse to get naked with me…”

His teasing prompts no further laughter and for a moment he wonders if the recollection has prompted the young, serious Deanna to re-emerge. With a slow shift, she turns over to face him. Her face is indeed serious, but there is no irritation or offense in her dark eyes. Instead, she regards him with a tenderness that makes him ache inside all over again. “Don’t you dare get yourself killed out there, Imzadi.” Her fingers reach up and touch his bearded cheek, her mind caressing him with glowing embers of warmth. “I couldn’t bear it.”

His mind fills with images of Thad in his final weeks, of the settling horror that squeezed the life out of them all for so long. “Yes, Commander,” he replies and his voice breaks ever so slightly.

They stay that way for a long time, watching each other, as the breeze lifts the drapes in quiet sighs and in the trees beyond the house, a nightwing and its mate call mournfully to one another.

As the hours pass, sleep comes in fits and bursts to both of them, but in the middle of the night, when all is quiet, they shift together, and their touches change in tone. Will slides above her, kissing his way down the warm column of her body and, with his fingers and mouth, draws from her a deep and consuming climax. In the indulgent aftermath, he thinks she is spent, but as her breathing quietens, she rolls him over and climbs atop him, sinking down on him with closed eyes and an expression of deep-seated bliss. Her mind absorbs him like her body does and together they rock and sigh and hold each other close until the moment when everything coalesces, and she cries out to him. *I love you,* he hears, clear as crystal in his head, and he returns the thought with a burst of his own rawest emotion as he comes and comes and comes…

***

In the morning, he wakes alone and, for the first time in years, dresses in uniform. He stands in front of the mirror and considers himself, greying hair and beard, heavier than he was when he last captained a ship and looking like, he has to admit it, an old man.

“One last hurrah,” he tells his reflection. “Then you leave the universe alone to sort its own problems out.”

He descends for breakfast to find Deanna and Kestra already in the kitchen. His daughter sets eyes on the red and black and their gazes meet. She’s inherited no real telepathic ability from her mother, but a flicker of understanding crosses her face.

“Hi Dad.”

Deanna hands him coffee and he drops into the seat beside Kestra. “Morning, my wild girl… Sleep well?” Kestra nods.

“You’re going to help Jean-Luc aren’t you?”

Will glances up at Deanna. She is still standing, her own mug of tea clasped closely to her chest. “Yes. He needs me.”

“When will you be back?”

“I don’t know, baby.” He swallows. “Where he is… It’s a long way and it could be very dangerous.”

Kestra puts down her cereal spoon. “Oh.”

There’s a long moment of silence as the information is processed fully in her head, then she gets up from her seat and flies out of the room. Believing she has left to try to hide tears, Will buries his face in his hands. But as he rubs his eyes and releases a heavy sigh, Kestra returns, in her hands a thick white pillar candle atop a chunky silver holder. She sets it down in the middle of the table and then plops down into her seat again.

“Where’d you get that?” Will asks.

“Thad’s room. He took it from grandma’s house. It was hers, but he said she called it ugly. I kinda like it though.”

Deanna hides a smile and Will observes, “Well, never let it be said that Lwaxana Troi wasn’t a paragon of good taste.”

“What?” asks Kestra, not understanding.

“Nevermind. What’s it for then?”

Kestra stands and produces a thin metal lighter, which she uses to kindle the flame. “Thad said, on Ardani when the sailors go to sea, their families light candles to give them safe passage on the oceans. So that’s what I’m doing.”

The flame catches and billows into life, surging upwards. Kestra looks up at him with a broad smile. “Be safe, Dad.”

Stunned by the gesture from his daughter and the heritage of it, Will’s words fail him and instead he nods, glancing at Kestra and then Deanna, whose eyes are bright with emotion. “Come here both of you,” he chokes out. They step toward him and he pulls them to him, gathering them into his body. He kisses their heads, breathes deep of their combined scents and murmurs into the warmth of their embrace, “Keep that candle burning for me and I’ll be back soon.” 


End file.
